


Sunrise

by casstayinmyass



Category: The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996)
Genre: Canon Era, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Reader-Insert, Romance, This Is For Everyone Else Who Loves This Sexy Ass Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 23:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11885514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstayinmyass/pseuds/casstayinmyass
Summary: You and Clopin watch the sun rise over Notre Dame, reflecting on all the time and unforgettable deeds you have shared.





	Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> Requested on tumblr!

 

 

Clopin hummed softly, gazing out at the night sky. It wasn't as dark as it had been two hours ago, as it was nearing sunrise, his favourite time of day.   
  
"How often have we come out here?" you mused, resting your head on his shoulder as both your legs swung over the side of the great tower you sat on.   
  
"Perhaps it has been every month or two," Clopin sighed, gesturing with wide arms. "It is the most romantic spot in all of Paris, no?"   
  
You exhaled with a smile, breathing in the moment. Clopin's slender body was warm against yours, and he had you in his arms, stroking his gloved fingers through your hair. Some nights, you would fall asleep quickly out here with him, Clopin singing an old lullaby his maman had sung to him when he was a boy. Other times, you both just sat in silence all night until morning, enjoying each other's company as you watched all of the city's lights turn out and go on before you.   
  
"You know why I love it so much up here, my amore?" Clopin asked, finally getting frustrated with the gloves and discarding them to feel your hair bare with his fingers.   
  
"Why, cher?" you asked, and he bit his lip passionately, placing a hand over his heart.   
  
"Oh, because it feels as if we are king and queen of all of France up here, overlooking our subjects."   
  
"All of them happy," you add.   
  
"All of them as content as we are, mademoiselle," Clopin pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, then down your graceful neck.   
  
"But you _are_ king," you reminded, "King of the gypsies."   
  
"A title I am proud to carry," he replied with a grin, "But if I am king, you are therefore my queen. Did your good, Christian mother raise you to become Queen of the Gypsies, my dear?"   
  
"I'm making up for all the time lost," you retorted. "Do you recall my first Topsy Turvey day?"  
  
"Oh!" Clopin reeled back, clutching his chest, "Like it was yesterday! You looked so beautiful..." He snapped back into his previous posture, holding up a finger and wagging it. "You know, that was very unfair. You were not supposed to come so _pretty_."   
  
"But why?" Clopin's little puppet emerged.   
  
"Because it was Topsy Turvey day, you silly boy!" Clopin told the little hand puppet, "She was supposed to wear an _ugly_ mask!"   
  
"Ugly mask?!" the little puppet went on, "Like a scary monster?"   
  
"Yes indeed, little one, but instead... she came dressed as a goddess," Clopin groaned, dreaming of you.   
  
"I didn't know the rules, it was my first week in the city!" you laughed at his antics, giving the puppet's nose a playful tickle, and Clopin let out a teasing growl, knocking you on your back. That was the thing about Clopin-- he could act like a lovable jester one minute, but when it came to his very few possessions in this world or you, he became the cunning, slightly bloodthirsty man underneath that jester's hat.   
  
"You were oblivious to the delightfully unholy thoughts you were stirring inside me that day..." Clopin went on, grinning.   
  
"What kinds of thoughts?" his puppet cut in, popping up between you two, but Clopin just shoved him down with a hush.   
  
"Those which are not for young ears," he smirked, and stuffed him away back into his pocket.   
  
"I could tell you liked me," you pointed out, "You followed me the whole parade, basically drooling."   
  
"I could not help it," he giggled, attacking your cheek with a kiss, "Your beauty left me defenseless, depraved, physically compromised!"  
  
"Oh?!" you laughed at that last part.   
  
"You do remember how impossibly tight my costume was that day?" Clopin deapanned, and you pretended to think hard, tapping your bottom lip.    
  
"Hmm... funny, all I can recall is what you looked like taking it off."   
  
He let out a nasty chuckle, and dived down lower, pressing kisses down your dress. There was nobody around this high up and this early in one of Clopin's secret viewpoints, so the few buttons undone at the top of your garments were no concern of yours.  
  
"I certainly remembered how you looked the first time I gazed upon this gorgeous, sexy body in all of its glory..." Clopin made grabby hands, surveying you, "And _ahhh_ , the first time we made love, in my cart, you remember that wondrous evening, yes?"   
  
"Of course," you bit your lip, recalling the romantic night of fine _stolen_ wine and fine _stolen_ cheese in the back of Clopin's wooden gypsy cart. If the children that gathered around it every morning only knew what went on back there...   
  
"Certainly not the blushing virgin I expected you to be!" Clopin chuckled, rubbing his hands together as he thought of all the things you did to him.   
  
"I'm just full of crazy surprises," you smirked.   
  
"That," he walked his fingers up from your stomach to your chin, "Is what makes you so perfect for me." He was close then... his face was an inch apart from yours. His loony smile soon faded as his wild eyes dimmed, and his deep brown orbs stared seriously down into yours. A second went by, and suddenly, he was kissing you, a deep, passionate ordeal. You parted your lips in arousal, and he moaned into your mouth as your tongues briefly mingled between your mouths. His hand reached up your skirt, and your previous disposition of contentment began to melt away as you started to crave him inside you, but before you could do anything about it in return, he paused himself in his seductions.   
  
"You know..." he murmured, pulling away with a sudden wane in his usual confidence and energy, "E-every moment you stay with me and my people is another moment closer to being found, tried and hung by Frollo. You know I would see heads roll to protect you, but gypsies, we..." he scratched his head, sitting back up to watch the city, "Don't live long."   
  
Your fingers fiddled with his purple coat, your other hand playing with a loose floorboard beside you. You shuddered, thinking of the odious minister of justice, and the way _he_ had stared at you that day of the festival of fools. But you found that it would not be wise to inform Clopin of Frollo's unwanted advances-- it would only make your lover act rashly, and get himself killed sooner. That brought you back to what Clopin just told you regarding life expectancy. "I know."   
  
"And yet, you stay?" he murmured sadly. He obviously wished he could give you a better life... much like the one you were born into, before you ran off to Paris with nothing more than a dress and a few coins all those years ago. But while you were a practical woman, you also knew the value of love like this.   
  
"Every moment I spend away from you is a moment lost, Clopin," you told him, "If Frollo finds us, or _our_ people... we stand-- or hang-- together."   
  
A smile graced his features, and his fingers threaded with yours as you both rested against one another, wide awake as ever as the brilliant sun rose in the distance above Notre Dame.


End file.
